


The Other Side of the Door

by OhmyPavus



Category: Dorian Pavus - Fandom, Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom, Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Inqusition, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, not finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhmyPavus/pseuds/OhmyPavus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the same routine as it has been for weeks; in the mornings I’d go to work, sit in an office all day, listening to the monotone sounds coming out from my boss’ mouth. Going into politics sounded like a grand idea back in high school, something that would impress teachers and girls, but now that I was here, a little fish in a big world, it was dull. Really fucking dull. After work I’d catch the busy 5:45pm train back to my tiny flat in east London, I’d rush to the shops, get the week’s groceries, prepare and eat a light meal, then go to sleep. When I was asleep, I was free, in a world that I cannot explain; a world that seems so real that I can touch it, feel it, and smell it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the same routine as it has been for weeks; in the mornings I’d go to work, sit in an office all day, listening to the monotone sounds coming out from my boss’ mouth. Going into politics sounded like a grand idea back in high school, something that would impress teachers and girls, but now that I was here, a little fish in a big world, it was dull. Really fucking dull. After work I’d catch the busy 5:45pm train back to my tiny flat in east London, I’d rush to the shops, get the week’s groceries, prepare and eat a light meal, then go to sleep. When I was asleep, I was free, in a world that I cannot explain; a world that seems so real that I can touch it, feel it, and smell it.  
I had made friends with a mage, Dorian, and we’d go on adventures to close a breach and save the world. In addition to Dorian, Sera, an elf and a warrior, Cassandra would also join me on my travels. I dared not to tell anyone about these strange dreams, nor did I ever mention it to my travelling companions. Was I crazy?  
________________________________________  
The tavern we now sat in was covered in a warm glow from the fireplace, a grand piece of expensive stone, which overshadowed every other feature in the modest establishment. Thick beams of wood held the roof up, and rough walls kept the cold in. There was a buzz in the air from its merry patrons, clinking their tankards and toasting to health in slurred voices. I sat in a large armchair, covered in bear hide, opposite Dorian, slumped in his. We stared at each other, desperately trying to keep our eyes open, a kind of competition but one with an inevitable ending; as soon as I blinked, I’d fall asleep and be taken away from this wonderful place, back into the greyness of London. I’d lose either way.  
“I’ll have you know, I am highly skilled in many areas, this being one of them,” Dorian said with a sly smile.  
“As the inquisitor, I order you to blink,”  
“Make me,”  
I watched him stand and make his way, slowly towards me, never taking his eyes off mine.  
Suddenly there was a flash of yellow light and an ear-piercing sound, like a large CRACK. I was thrown to the grown, Dorian on top of me. For a moment I was blind, ears ringing and muffled screams from the other side of the room. I felt a weight being lifted from my legs and an arm around me. They pulled me up and commanded me to walk. I obeyed, defenceless. Behind me, I heard the building collapse.  
The whiteness began to clear and I could see Dorian pulling me outside. My legs ached and there was a sharp pain in my ankle. I fell onto the dewy grass and looked back at where the tavern should have been. The small building had been reduced to fire and rubble, its large beams collapsed onto one another. No one else had left the building in time and the screams had stopped some time ago. A deadly silence fell over the night interrupted by the occasional crack of the wood breaking and burning to ash.  
Dorian sat next to me catching his breath, silent for the first time in days. Above us, millions of stars twinkled, seeing all. I struggled to stand and started to limp away from the scene, Dorian jumping to catch up. I wouldn’t meet his eyes so he kept his lips firmly shut.  
Soon I could limp no more, we had reached a hill that had looked over the establishment, the kind of natural vulnerability which made it an easy target for raiders and bandits. It now hid the rubble from the rest of the world, as if it never even existed. I leaned against one of the old oak trees, panting hard. I could feel Dorian hovering awkwardly beside me, unsure whether to comfort me or leave me alone. Now was the time I wished for sleep, to be taken away from this nightmare, from death and its ghosts.  
“Where is Sera and Cassandra?” I croaked  
My eyes moved to find Dorian’s, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.  
“They may have made it out,” he replied, empty.  
“Whoever did this is going to pay. Where is my long sword?”  
Dorian shook his head, “Everything has been destroyed, I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his feet.  
I wanted to shout, to yell at the top of my lungs, instead, I leaned over and retched. Dorian placed an arm around me and stayed there, while I desperately tried to rid myself of nausea. The feeling was like choking on your own breath, like with most things in this world; I could not vomit, nor could I eat or drink or relieve myself. But I could cry. And I did, until the pain had resided.  
Exhausted, I wanted to sleep, to curl up next to Dorian and wake in my own bed, but he pulled me up, almost aggressively.  
“Now is not the time to sleep. You are the Inquisitor, this may have not been an accident and I am certain that we were the targets. Walk.”  
I took a step forward and stumbled, my ankle burning. Dorian ducked down and put my arm around him, to help share the weight. We moved at a slow, awkward pace, but at least we were moving.

\---  
I craved sleep, to be lost in a dark slumber. I'd be happy to never wake again, but we kept at our pace for several hours, making sure a good distance was placed between us and the nightmare that had unfolded. Dorian, usually so well groomed, was covered in dirt and ash, his hair dishevelled and limp. He looked defeated, warn out from carrying my weight and the emotional strain.  
"Please, can we sleep?" I begged, repeating what I had said every few minutes.  
"Soon," he replied  
"I feel sick,"  
It was true, my nausea had never truly receded and my head felt as if my skull was reducing in size, crush the bone against my brain. I needed sleep.  
Dorian watched me carefully and then nodded. Relief washed over me as I collapsed onto the ground. Never had grass felt so soft or welcoming before. Dorian sat down beside me, and I pulled him closer, planting a tender kiss on his lips. His arms went around me, as I rested my pounding head on his chest, his heart beating against my ear was the last sensation I felt as I left that world.

6:58AM. Alarm's mechanical onslaught in my ears. I had overslept by half an hour yet I still felt exhausted. Jumping out of bed, I ran into shower, letting the cold water jolt my body awake. It was no use, I was still exhausted from the Hinterlands.  
Half asleep, I stared blankly at my wardrobe for a few minutes before realising that putting on underwear was the first step in getting dressed. Clumsily, I pulled on my briefs and reached for my dark grey, straight leg pants, and the first button up shirt that I could find. I slipped on a belt and pulled on my socks. This process was so time consuming that I couldn't eat breakfast, something that I craved madly after spending my night in my head.  
Defeated, and out of time, I ran out of my apartment, almost forgetting to lock door. I bounded down, three steps at a time and out onto the busy street where I weaved through the slow paced crawl of the city's morning commuters. My bus was closing in when I reached the bus stop, I threw myself in, paid my fee and fought my way to a seat. I was going to be on time.  
The bus was slow, too slow. A traffic jam loomed over head and out of site, endless rows of impatient and self entitled minds that made up London's working sector. It was probably faster to walk into work than to sit in a constant state of anxiety, my life very well may be in the hands of the bus driver, determining how late I'll actually be. Mind made up, I signalled to be let off at the next stop - several hours away in the next street. I stood impatiently at the doors, tapping my feet in time with the throbbing on my coffee deprived head.  
Swearing at me, the bus driver opened the doors and let me off in the middle of the road. I quickly walked to the strip of shops that lined the busy road, leaving the driver's cursing behind me. Despite only living ten minutes away from this area, I had never even glanced at this road, my mind usually distracted with a good book or writing down my recounts of the night.  
Starving and dying for a coffee, I walked into the nearest cafe; a small brown box-like building, its interior covered in dark wood and lined with bookshelves. A line of several people waited to place their order, while plenty of others waited to receive theirs. I joined them excitedly, as someone who bought their coffee daily, you begin to sense whether a place is good or bad by the atmosphere. I could tell this coffee was going to be really damn good.  
I placed my order, a cappuccino and banana bread, and joined the other customers waiting for their drinks. My eyes hovered towards the coffee machine, transfixed by the skilful hands of the barista, simultaneously frothing milk and serving a customer. A shiver went down my spine and I looked up at him, dark skinned, well built, that long, beautiful face that I knew all too well, and the curl of his carefully maintained moustache; Dorian. He had stopped making coffee, and stood frozen, staring back at me, spilling hot milk on his hand.  
Everyone turned to look at the stranger who stopped the man from making their coffee, me. Dorian slowly put down the now empty jug of milk and slowly backed away into the kitchen. Another man, bigger and older than Dorian, rushed out and resumed making orders. I felt a tap on my shoulders and turned around, finding Dorian standing behind me. He was dressed rather plainly, in a tight light blue shirt with a dirty black apron hanging from his neck, but his eyes and his smell was all too familiar. He was still a head taller than me and almost as strong, his muscular hands grasping my arm and pulling me into a less populated corner of the cafe, he looked worried.  
"You know who I am, don't you?" He says, his eyes searching mine.  
"Dorian," I reply, at a loss for words  
"I didn't think you were real, well, I suspected, but couldn't know for sure," he says in a hushed voice, "Is it really you? Edward? Or Shadow, I never know what to call you,"  
"It's Edward here. Am I still dreaming? This can't be real,"  
"It's as real as, I was going to say 'you and me', but that's up for debate. I'd rather it not be real because that shirt does not match those shoes," replied Dorian, looking me up and down.  
I laugh, it's the only thing I can do.  
"I don't want to ruin this, but I am desperate for a coffee,"  
"Ah!" Dorian says before rushing back behind the counter and preparing the machine, those expert hands at work again.  
He was good at his job, within a minute I was handed a steaming hot mug of coffee, much to the displeasure of the rest of the impatient customers. I drank, greedily, the hot liquid slipping down my throat. It really was the best coffee I’ve ever had.  
Dorian watched me as I took those first few sips, a distance was between us. Lines had been put in place in this world that we could not cross; he was so familiar yet he was more than a stranger. He was about to speak when his manager shouted his name, almost pleading for Dorian to resume his work.  
“I will be back tomorrow, I promise,”  
Our departure was awkward, last night I had kissed him without fear and today I struggled to even talk to him. He gave me a reassuring smile and went back behind the counter, all without saying a thing. Was this really Dorian?  
I made it into work on time, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything, my mind fuzzy and confused by this morning’s discovery. Distracted, I stumbled home and went to bed without dinner, fully dressed. I struggled to sleep, but eventually the familiar calm pulled me into the world I could not do without.  
My eyes flew open, and the crisp morning greeted me with unusual enthusiasm. The sun was already high up behind the clouds and it was past the time when birds had greeted each other. Dorian was already up and looked as if he had come back from a walk, sweat beading his brow. I couldn’t help but smile at his familiarity, his battle mage armour enhancing the air of extravagance which he carried proudly, wherever he went. This was my Dorian.  
“We should go back to the tavern and see if we can find some survivors,” I said, almost too happily.  
Dorian shook his head, “We’re safer out here. If Sera or Cassandra are still alive, they’ll be making their way back to Skyhold. We should too.”  
“Do we need to talk about something?” I asked, masking my nerves with a vague tone of voice.  
Dorian looked at me, daring me to go on, but if he wasn’t going to mention it, then neither would I.  
I heaved myself up and walked past him, taking my usual position in the lead. Two could play at this game.  
After a while, I almost forgot that Dorian was even with me, almost.  
“How’s your leg?” He asked.  
“Fine,”  
“You aren’t going to thank me? I used healing magic while you slept. Was it too much to hope that you might have noticed?”  
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.  
“I believe an inquisitor with a broken ankle can’t be of much assistance to the people of Thedas. I should expect crowds of adoring followers upon my return, for healing the injured inquisitor. But he dare not thank me; After all, it is such a small, unimportant task.”  
“Despite the inquisition being pro-mage, I’m sure no one would object to one being gagged,” I replied aggressively, kicking a rock into the distance.  
“Are you having a temper tantrum?”  
“No Dorian, this is an argument.”  
I don’t know what had happened; perhaps my quick dismissal of modern Dorian and my eager return to this one had lessened the hold that this world had over me. It didn’t seem so real anymore.  
“Well let me know when it has ended. This is terribly dull,” he said, sitting down and pulling out a fat, red apple.  
“Do you work in a cafe?”  
He looked a little taken aback, but not too surprised.  
“I don’t want to talk about it here; I want to get back to Skyh- WATCH OUT!”  
I turned just in time to see an arrow hit the tree only inches away from my head. I instinctively reached back for my weapon, but it had been destroyed in the fire. Dorian was by my side in a flash, fire dancing from his fingertips. I scanned the bushes for the attacker, but they were well hidden. Suddenly the wind was knocked from my lungs as something lunged at me, throwing me to the ground. I franticly looked about, but still I saw no one and worse still, I could not see Dorian either.  
Something lifted me up, thick hands wrapped around my waist, crushing my ribs. I twisted to face my attacker, a large Quinari brute, his face was scarred and he was missing an eye, the other burned with a desire to kill me. I placed my hands on either side of his face and pushed hard, crushing his skull. He dropped me and I rolled out of the way, as his foot slammed onto the ground. It was either me of him. I threw myself at him and clawed at his face and blood spurted from the deep cracks I had made; one more blow and he’d be finished. I pulled my arm back, preparing for the punch, when everything went black.  
________________________________________  



	2. An Idea

5:00AM. I woke in my own bed, my sheets wet with sweat. What had happened? Did I die?  
I made my way to the bathroom and my hands shakily cupped the water as I splashed my face. I had a quick shower and made my way over to my empty wardrobe – the laundry had been neglected these past few weeks, I had other priorities. It took me several attempts to find the right outfit; a checked shirt, grey tweed jacket with the sleeved rolled and tight, navy pants with a brown oxfords. If I did find Dorian, I wanted to impress him; I wasn’t just some sweaty businessman.  
I left the house at 6:30, carefully locking the door behind me. I made an earlier bus, with plenty of time, and hopped off outside the cafe. Now I’d know for sure if I was crazy or not.  
I walked in; there were less people in the cafe at this time in the morning, but enough to still call it ‘busy’. Several people were behind the counter, serving and preparing foods and sure enough, there was Dorian, expertly making his famous coffees. He looked up at me and I held my breath.  
“You fucker,” he said, surprising me. He handed a customer their drink and threw off his apron. “You absolute ass, I healed you, you ungrateful pig!” He said, making his way over to me.  
Once again, everyone was staring, but Dorian took no notice, it was not unusual for people to look at him.  
“I didn’t think you were real,”  
“So? Are you rude to all your imaginary friends?”  
“You’re a barista?”  
“I’m studying for my PHD in modern science; I need a way to pay my rent! Thank me or I’ll spit in your coffee.”  
“Kiss me or I’ll walk out.”  
Dorian didn’t seem to hear me at first, but then he grabbed me by my collar and pulled me into a familiar, passionate kiss. I threw my arms around his waist, breathing him in. This was Dorian! My Dorian! If he hadn’t have pulled away, I am sure I could have kissed him forever, the curve of his lips fitting between mine perfectly. One of the customers began to clap, sarcastically and soon several others joined them. Dorian smiled at me and I returned it with a grin, self-consciously running my hand through my hair.  
“I swear, if you don’t get behind that fucking counter, I will beat you with a stick as big as your fucking moustache!” Dorian’s boss cried.  
“I’d bet you’d love that, David. How could you resist hitting an arse so well sculpted, such as mine?”  
“I’m not paying you to look pretty Dorian,” he growled.  
“Well I’m shocked. How uncharacteristic of you to break up such a tender and moving moment. This is why you are alone,”  
“Its fine Dorian, I can leave,” I said, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of this.  
“It’s not.” He replied, he walked gracefully over to David and smiled, “I’m going on my lunch break.”  
He turned and was out the door before David could reply, pulling me along with him.  
\---  
It was a cold autumn morning and Dorian's thin, light blue shirt did little to protect him from the sharpness in the air. He wrapped his arms around himself and marched on, too full of pride to walk back in and fetch a coat. I walked helplessly behind him, a cloud of confusion hung over me. He turned back and watched me, a thin smile on his lips.  
"Where to?" he asked,  
"Walk with me to work,"  
He waited for me and gave me his arm, like couples would do in Thedas - holding hands was seen as something only a mother and child would do. It was strange how many habits I had picked up from that world, a world that may have never been real. If Dorian was from that world, how did he come to this one? Or was it the other way around? I guess, the real question that troubled me was, perhaps neither of these worlds existed and I am actually in a coma dreaming this whole thing up. Maybe Dorian was the doctor who checked on me and Sera and Cassandra were my sisters? But I had wasted hours, days, months evens in this life. It couldn't be faked, the time I've spent doing things, simple things, like washing or cleaning or on the bus. What sort of coma dream would that be?  
"Dorian?"  
"Hm?"  
"How long have you been in Thedas ? Or here?"  
"If I tell you, promise me you won't get sappy. I don't need a pity party,"  
"I promise,"  
"I've been in London for several months now, I met you as soon as I arrived. Thedas? That's a little harder to say.."  
How was I supposed to believe anything he said. I spent so long getting close to him, getting to know him and none of it was true. Here he was, after all this time, living in London? Did he want to live some sort of double life? All I wanted to do was survive.  
"Is anything you've told me actually true?" I said, getting a little angry.  
"Let me finish, you can judge me after. Then, if you want to leave, I will understand."  
I felt my stomach twist, I had spoken too quickly.  
"As I was saying; I found myself in Thedas after I had run away from my father, several years ago. He was a proud man, much like the one we encountered in Redcliff, but I fear that man was only a projection of my fantasies. I wrote him a letter actually, the morning after the vision visited me in Redcliff. He replied, well, his lawyer replied. A signed emancipation document. I had filed a motion to divorce myself from my parents just before I ran away, I was angry and it had hurt them. I thought nothing more of it, that was all I really wanted to do I suppose - hurt them that is.  
Then I sent him that letter, asking to see him, begging him to understand me and accept me. Stupid, I suppose, to think that parents want to understand their children, especially after years of silence. He replied so quickly, I thought 'he must want this as much as I do'. You can imagine my surprise when I opened that letter, marked with the family crest, expensive paper, typed with my name and address.. His lawyer had completed the motion. The last piece of my family I have is on that stupid document,"  
"Dorian,"  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm a fuck up. I fully understand if you want me to leave, not even my parents want me around,"  
We had stopped walking; I stood facing him, a stupid expression on my face. I was in shock. My poor Dorian. I pulled him into a hug, a small gesture, but the only one I could really offer. I loved Dorian, the one here was no different to the one in Thedas. If I could make him happy, I would.  
"Marry me, we'll start our own family!"  
"Men can't have children, my dear,"  
"We'll adopt! Be a real family. Take them to football on the weekends, make stupid hats out of craft paper and send them to school in them,"  
"A nice idea, but only said in the heat of the moment. I am not asking you to pity me, merely to clear up any confusion. What I said in Thedas was a romanticised version of the truth, fashioned for the ears of creatures who exist in a world that may not be real. I am sorry for misleading you,"  
I would not push it further, but these were the kind of things I'd daydream about when I was alone in my apartment on the weekends. Dorian and I, never apart.  
"Now tell me about yourself, I bet you can't top my tale,"  
"There's nothing to be said,"  
"Oh come on, I hope I didn't ruin the mood. Tell me, did your mother really have five children?"  
I nodded, "Five boys, all married with children now,"  
"Is Jake still around?"  
"Yes, thankfully."  
In Skyhold, I had received a letter from my parents requesting me home for the funeral of my eldest brother, Jake. He was a templar in that world, and in the British military in this one. Dorian had accompanied me home and was greeted with open arms by my family. My nieces and nephews loved him, the first mage they'd ever seen. He would entertain them for hours, producing ice from his hands and then burning it with fire. In the mornings, Don's children: Hannah, seven, and her younger brother George, four, would burst into our room, unannounced and jumped on the bed until we woke. We'd take turns trying to get them to leave so we could get dressed.  
"That is good,"  
We arrived at my work, a tall office building, no different from the others that surrounded it.  
"Meet me here after work, I have an idea and I'll need your help,"  
"When don't you need my help?" Dorian asked, before kissing me lightly on the lips.  
\-----------------  
I met Dorian in the local library after work, here, he was in his natural habitat, although we wouldn't find what we needed in any books. The library was not only a place of learning or a building for research, it was also a community space.  
I dragged Dorian away from a pile of books and towards the large notice board covered in a messy assortment of coloured papers, from 'lost' posters to job offers, this board held at least some of the answers I desired.  
"What?" Dorian asked, overwhelmed by the amount of useless information before him.  
"Look,"  
I point at a small piece of green coloured paper, recently put up. There's a clip-art style picture of a chest at the top, below it thick black writing reads Adventurers wanted at the call of Commander for new Dungeons and Dragons expansion.  
I watched Dorian read it and saw his face turn from a smile to a mixture of amazement and horror.  
"The Commander? I hope you are wrong about all of this. Dungeons and Dragons?!"  
"I have a suspicion. I got his email from the staff, he books out one of the meeting rooms for it every Tuesday, around about now."  
"And you've never been before?! Not even out of curiosity?"  
"I've been putting it off."  
The meeting room isn't too far off, I begin to make my way over. Dorian tries to stop me.  
"You can't be serious? I-I don't - I'm not going in there. What if someone sees me?!" replies Dorian.  
I shrug him off, curiosity will get the better of him, I am sure of it. I knock on the door but there is no reply.  
"Oh well, here's not there today, let's go-" Dorian begins.  
The door opens just a crack and a young woman with thick, black hair, peers up at us.  
"Can I help you?" she asks suspiciously.  
"Are you the commander? We want to join the, er, game?" I reply.  
"Go away," the woman says, before shutting the door.  
Inside I can hear the woman arguing with a muffled voice of a man.  
The door opens again, wider this time. Standing before me is Cullen. He looks so similar to the one in Skyhold, minus the rather camp giant fur ball around his neck, he was a hole head taller than me and the scar that interrupted his lip remained the same. However to see him out of his armour and in a black Game of Thrones t-shirt, was a sight I'd never thought to see. I burst out laughing.  
Dorian pushed me aside and joined me in my laughter.


	3. An Invasion of Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Currently a work in progress.  
> Cullen is hiding something, but what?

"Go away," the woman says, before shutting the door.  
Inside I hear the woman arguing with the muffled voice of a man.  
The door opens again, wider this time. Standing before me is Cullen. He looks so similar to the one in Skyhold, minus the rather camp giant fur ball around his neck. He was a whole head taller than me and the scar that interrupted his lip remained the same. However to see him out of his armour and sporting a black Game of Thrones t-shirt, jeans and a silver watch, was a sight I'd never thought to see. I burst out laughing.  
Dorian pushed me aside and joined me in my laughter.  
Cullen’s face reddened as our laughter filled the library. He pulled us inside and shut the door, swearing under his breath.  
Dorian was gasping for breath and wiping the tears from his eyes.  
“This is too much. This is WONDERFUL,” teased Dorian.  
Cullen looked like he was about to punch him. He moved his fists to his side and spoke very calmly.  
“I did not ask you to come here. You are not welcome,” he said, face still red, whether it was full of rage or embarrassment, it was too hard to tell.  
“What do you mean?” I blurted out, “We’re from Thedas. You know us!”  
“My whole apartment building is full of people from Thedas. Surely that’s enough to deal with, I don’t need more.”  
“I don’t care who either of you are. You’re either here to role play or leave. I am Doris, necromancer and noble. He is Cullen, commander of the inquisition. And you are?” The woman interjects impatiently.  
“Hold on. Doris? No, I'm Dorian, necromancer and noble! You stole my character, or rather, my life!”  
“Not a chance. Cullen and I developed this character together. She is copyright free,”  
“Copyright free? It’s my life!”  
“Stop! Please!” I cried, “Cullen, your apartment is full of people from Thedas? What does that even mean?”  
Cullen strides past us and out of the room. Clearly he’s about to fetch one of these “people from Thedas”, Josephine perhaps, who actually works as a librarian and occasionally joins Cullen in his games. From what I had seen of it, these romanticised fantasies are usually far from the truth.  
When Cullen returned, there was a proud smirk on his face. He turned to me, arms crossed.  
“I am sleeping with one of the important libraries,” he announced, “She asked me to inform you that you have been banned from this library for your loud and threatening behaviour and if you do not leave this instance, she will call security,”  
“Are you threatened by us?” scoffed Dorian.  
Cullen doesn't reply. I watch his face begin to redden again. With this, I pulled Dorian out of the library and far away from Cullen.  
***  
“What are we doing crouched suspiciously behind this bush?” Dorian asked me, amusement in his voice.  
Whenever Dorian shifted for more comfort, the bush rustled.   
“If Cullen won’t tell me anything, then we’re going to follow him. There must be a reason why he’s a massive dick here,” I reply.  
“I bet he’s locked them all up in some underground science lab.”  
“Doubt it. He probably just didn’t want to talk about it in front of that woman.”  
“If we find every member of the inquisition in his apartment building, then you are building me my own cafe.”  
“Deal,” I say, absent-mindedly, as I spied Cullen leaving the library.


End file.
